Melania’s Coat

J. A. Allen


Let me open by saying I am Canadian. Some people might argue I don’t have the right to comment on American politics. As a human, I believe I do: especially because last night while watching US news, my heart broke. It actually ached in my chest. This morning it still does.

A couple of years ago, I was separated from my middle son at Walmart. He was eight. I was rushed and assumed he was walking behind me with his two brothers. It wasn’t until I came to the checkout I realized he wasn’t. We were separated less than five minutes before my name was called to the service desk. He was standing with his teacher who happened to be shopping in the same store, and appeared to be all right until the moment he saw me. Then, he broke down. He thought I forgot him. He thought that in…

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